I never think of her
Never when the wind is chill...
She wore white to his funeral
some say it was the same dress...
The kitchen is empty
the corner you slept in...
Hardly invisible certainly not six feet tall
this storm reduces hope through the hours...
I was a young man
and I spoke in symbols...
For 15 years each time they made love
she’d take hot water and a washcloth...
Heart
broken...
These rocky mountains are now hers;
flowers - subtle myths of childhood...
Set Fire to the Rain
Cabeza...
Sorcerous arcs slashed the vast night
craven blades, as cruel as their light...
My love for you, child,
is boundless as the sea...
You fall on me like a torrent
amidst the worst drought...